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<title>The birds that sung, sing no more. by xj_bbx</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421487">The birds that sung, sing no more.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xj_bbx/pseuds/xj_bbx'>xj_bbx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Global Warming, How Do I Tag, Inspired by Real Events, My First AO3 Post, Not Beta Read, POV Second Person, Prose Poem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:34:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xj_bbx/pseuds/xj_bbx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And take in you do, inhaling fresh air and feeling it slither down the back of your throat, oh how your lungs expand with the unwilted breeze, so foreign compared to the black soot that pumps out of their machines.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The birds that sung, sing no more.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The forest was quiet yet seemingly more alive then you could ever imagine, the faint chirping of birds calling out for each other in a song sung only for them. The gentle crunch of fallen leaves that have long since seen their time on old and intertwined fingers of the soaring beasts that breathe life into that very wood you stand in, grind into orange tinted dust beneath your shoes.<br/>
Or do you walk barefoot? Do you prefer the feeling of how each individual blade of grass prickles at your skin, the dried dirt crumbling at your mercy between your toes as you step cautiously, wanting to take in all of mother nature and the chilling beauty she bestows upon you.<br/>
And take in you do, inhaling fresh air and feeling it slither down the back of your throat, oh how your lungs expand with the unwilted breeze, so foreign compared to the black soot that pumps out of their machines. Mankind and their creations, so powerful yet so fragile as its besmirched grime poisons the very thing us creatures need for survival, what you need for survival. The wicked touch of the devil itself, blackened wings wrapping around all things holy and squeezing tight, tight until no life remains in those distant eyes.<br/>
The unwelcome memory jolts you back into the present, serenity washing over in gentle waves like a cure, the antidote to the dull ache that lives in the remnants of your damaged heart. Though damaged it may be, corrupt with what they fed you, your heart thrives with hope.</p><p>Hope for what, you may ask?</p><p>Hope for forgiveness, forgiveness for what you have done. They trusted you, mankind followed your path that lead them to death, yet you are still here. Their forgotten bones sink away into the toxic waste of the machines.</p><p>Your machines.<br/>
That you left behind.<br/>
How dare you ask for forgiveness?</p><p>What seemed like a peaceful woodland, untouched by the evil of the world, turns to ashes around the very spot you stand in. For everywhere you walk, your demons follow along in the shadows that linger behind your step.<br/>
As mother nature perishes her screams rip through once peaceful air, the birds that sung sing no more, they cry in fear for their home is burning, golden flickers of flames crawling higher and higher up wooden giants whom protected the earth, pay for your doing. You finally realize, how destructive you are.</p><p> </p><p>But of course, it was too late.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first post on this website and I'm pretty anxious haha. This and another story have been sitting in my word document for a long time now, so while I'm slowly but surely building up confidence in things I used to love once more I have decided to post this, and post I have! (Before I end up regretting it which knowing me, I definitely will)</p><p>Thank you to whoever has taken time out of their day to read this, it is much appreciated and I hope you enjoyed. Much love to everyone, stay home and stay safe ♥️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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